


the stars, the moon (they have all been blown out)

by shipwrecks



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Breathplay, Choking, Facials, M/M, Subspace, bottom!poe, i have ascended and entered the void and if i never write any stormpilot again i don't even care, like ridiculously slutty bottom poe, lol i have like 3 prompts i wanna fill, my soul is in this fic somewhere, slight D/s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-12 21:50:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5682070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shipwrecks/pseuds/shipwrecks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But Poe understands that you don’t just open a conversation with someone, even someone who you’re fucking, with “can you choke me while we have sex?” It just isn’t done.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the stars, the moon (they have all been blown out)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [flaneuse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flaneuse/gifts).



> THIS IS FOR MARIANA, MY BEACON OF LIGHT IN THIS TRASH FANDOM, WHO ENCOURAGED ME AND READ OVER EVERYTHING I EVER SENT HER AND HAS DRAGGED ME TO HELL WITH HER SOUL-DESTROYING HEADCANONS THAT ARE NOW MY OWN BUT IT'S A JOURNEY I WOULDN'T HAVE MISSED FOR THE WORLD.
> 
> ahem anyway. this is literally my magnum opus to sub poe and if you don't read him as a very needy sub, then this fic is not for you but like also. tell me how you do that?? because that's all i can see at this point. title stolen from florence + the machine.

He was trying to drop subtle hints at first.

Nothing too forward, didn’t want to scare him off, but. He couldn’t stop thinking about it. He’d concede that it was not wildly out of character for him to want to be…dominated, yes, that was ultimately what he was asking for. But something about Finn in particular made this desire amplified, almost too much sometimes. Especially his hands, big, perfect for what he wanted, seemed like they’d fit just right around his neck.

But Poe understands that you don’t just open a conversation with someone, even someone who you’re fucking, with “can you choke me while we have sex?” It just isn’t done. Well, maybe it was. Somewhere, some magical planet where open and communicative sexual relationships were normal and no one was shamed for their kinks. But he doesn’t live there, so. He was dropping hints instead.

He’d take Finn’s cock that much deeper, trying to choke on it, on purpose. He’d sputter, could barely breathe, eyes watering, meanwhile, his own cock was _throbbing_ , so hard. He once thought he was going to come, just from sucking Finn off, and he was so close. Finn only barely had to touch him before he came, wet on his stomach, hard enough that it was all over his chest. Poe held onto the feeling of his cock choking him, tries to feel like he’s gasping for air again.

When Finn fucked him, even when he fucked Finn, he’d hold his breath even longer than necessary. He knows that it isn’t the same, even though Finn has never actually done it, knows that he’s trying to capture something on his own that he really can’t alone but. He still doesn’t know what Finn will say, doesn’t even know how to bring it up, and this is all he has.

Finally though, it had become too much for even him to ignore (and he was well-versed in ignoring things, even the ones that were probably too much) so he has to find a way to tell Finn, well, ask him for this.

It’s after a mission, an especially grueling mission, the kind that tests a leader and all Poe wants to do is stop leading and be _led_. Finn picks up on this as they lazily kiss in their quarters, when he curls a hand around the back of Poe’s neck to bring him closer and Poe just relaxes into him, pliant, letting Finn explore his mouth with his tongue as he pops the button of his pants open, only separating to get both their clothes off. Poe wants to ask, wishes he had before now, because now he is naked, and while they have, of course, seen each other like this before, he is all the more exposed, with no cover should this conversation go wrong.

“I’ve been wanting to ask you something,” he starts before Finn can continue and he lets another opportunity to do this go by, “but I need you to promise me you won’t judge me when I do.”

Which, he realizes, is a dumb thing to request, because how can Finn know his own reaction to this, but, “Poe, I was a stormtrooper. Who am I to judge…well, much of anything?” Finn responds, knowing what he needs to hear better than himself, and Poe knows he won’t judge, probably can’t, even if he wanted to.

“I want you to choke me. When we have sex.”

So okay, that wasn’t the most diplomatic way of putting it, but it’s out there now. Finn looks confused at first, head cocked, but his eyes are closed, like he’s mulling it over. And then suddenly, his eyes open and it’s as if he gets it. Gets why he wants this, why, just once, he doesn’t want control.

He nods. “I have never done anything like that, but I think I could. For you.”

Poe lets out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding, hearing that. _I think I could. For you._ repeats over and over in his head, hazy at the words, and he’s so overcome by the prospect, he almost forgets Finn is right in front of him, willing to do what he asked but waiting for his response.

All Poe can do is kiss him, try to say "thank you," as he does, mostly mumble into his mouth but he thinks his overall point gets across. But Finn pushes him off, holds his shoulders so they’re looking right at each other, “you’ll stop me if it’s too much, right?” Poe nods, vaguely says something about how there’s no such thing; Finn grips his shoulders tighter.

“There is to, you adrenaline junkie. And when it is, you have to stop me,” he says definitively, his eyes looking at Poe like he knows far too much about him despite their limited time together, saying in the silence, _I will not help you self-destruct, you are more to the galaxy,_ to me _than that_.

Poe tries not to think too hard on that, writes it off as his own projecting because how could Finn know, and instead nods at Finn, tells him what he will do if it becomes too much (not a safeword, because he realizes he may not be able to talk) and promises he will, does not look away from Finn when he makes that promise. Finn finally looks remotely at ease, still unsure, yes, but he smiles as he pushes Poe down on his back and kisses him, his mouth saying without words, enough talking now.

And then, he does what Poe’s been thinking about, dreaming about since he met Finn, maybe longer, maybe he willed Finn into existence for this very purpose. It’s tentative at first, but nonetheless, a hand is on his neck. Grips it, as much as he can while still trying to feel this out, and Poe can’t help himself. Tips his head back, shows the expanse of his neck as if the flash of skin screams _grab more_ , which it really kind of does, and Finn obeys, trying to get more within both his grip and his limit of how far he’s willing to take this, even when Poe is clearly saying, the limit does not exist.

He would moan, but the sound is caught in his throat, can’t escape the bottleneck of Finn’s hand. But his body becomes slack, melts into Finn’s touch, except for his hips which twitch up, try to find friction.

Finn is kind enough to lighten his grip just so, to ask, “can I–do you wa–“ to trip over the words because the sight of Poe right now, eyes fluttering, body jerking, (first up trying to get closer to Finn, then back down, too much for him to even be close) almost unsure what to do with itself, like it’s never experienced anything like this before, and still doesn’t know if it can handle it. Poe can’t tell if he’s trying to ask if he wants to stop or go forward, can’t really tell what his answer would be. He just swallows, now getting some air, says scratchily, “more” and Finn gives it to him.

He, Finn, wants to give him even more, though. Wants to touch him, maybe give him a little too much right now. So he shuffles up his body and goes to get a hand between his legs. Poe can’t wait though, and pulls him up further so he’s truly straddling him. Yet he takes a moment to just take in Finn’s thighs, his eyes raking over them, so big and strong, and they’re enough. Just bucks up between them, getting friction on his cock finally, realizing that he can only lift his hips so high with his neck being held between the sheet and Finn’s hand. It might make him harder.

Poe is fucking into his thighs, desperately, frenzied. Can’t stop, not even when they’re both so sweaty that Finn moves, slips back, and Poe is just rutting against his hip.

Finn has still got his hand wrapped around Poe’s neck, Poe is gasping for air, coughing on nothing and whimper whispering, “harder” even as he can barely get the words out. His other hand is now on both of their cocks, (Finn is almost as hard as Poe, just watching him ruined, wrecked) stroking them together, slick from their precome, sliding fast and messy. Poe feels the drag of Finn, heightened, swears he can tell the individual callouses on the hand, thinks of teaching him how to pilot.

Poe comes with a groan, that barely ekes out, softer yet higher, the register specifying itself from others Finn has heard because of how close he is to his mouth, how exact he can hear him. His come is all over Finn’s hand, stroking him through his orgasm, stroking himself to reach his own. Poe tries to talk, somehow, and Finn lessens his hold on his neck. Poe barely, and yet unmistakably, says, “please, want you to come on my face.” This, this was not what they had discussed, and Finn isn’t sure how to proceed. He had not considered that the eventual scope of the evening would stretch beyond what they had planned, does not know if what he is asking means something different than their initial arrangement.

But Poe sighs, heavy, needy, Finn thinks he is saying just _want_ over and over, then looks at him like he wants nothing else, but more importantly, like he trusts Finn—only Finn—to give it to him. So he will, strokes himself, now moving closer to Poe, the grips on both his own cock and Poe’s neck becoming tighter. He is going to come soon, seeing Poe so desperate to have it. Poe’s body has stopped twitching, darting hectic, Finn thinks it’s because he’s just come, too dazed to move. He can feel in his stomach, low, what he hadn’t realized had coiled undoing itself, and soon, he’s coming, white streaks across Poe’s face. His eyes open suddenly, they’re glassy, framed by lashes that blink away sweat and come. Choking on words and breathing, squeezing Finn’s right thigh twice then scratching it, their code for _stop_ and Finn can’t loosen his hand off his neck faster. It has a handprint, red, mean, that Finn can only see as his handiwork, his responsibility.

(The handprint will turn dark, purple, yellowing eventually, as Finn repeats this to himself, a punishment every time he looks until Poe reassures him that he wanted this, asked for it, and wears the handprint to remind himself of what, who he loves. Even under the flight suit, no one else can see, especially under the flight suit, the thick, scratchy fabric cannot make him forget.)

Poe tightens his chest, abs, then releases, once, twice. Finn takes care of him, nuzzling up to him, touching him everywhere, reminding him where he is, who he’s with. Poe needs it. Didn’t think he would, didn’t really think this was that big of a deal, but it was and he does. He instinctively leans into Finn’s touches, trying now to feel his hands everywhere else except his neck.

“I, I was in and out just then,” he stutters and Finn’s eyes widen, worried about the Poe in an alternative timeline who isn’t saying this to him, is just laying there. Says he cannot do this again, could never handle the possibility of that. Poe brings him back to their timeline, assures him that he’s fine but yes, they are going to have to discuss the ground rules of this again. But, nothing ever felt like this, you, you (he says twice, really hoping Finn understands how important he is to him right now, clings to him as the words leave him) did something that he could not have asked of anybody else.

Finn’s chest screws itself up, tenses at that, knows he will give him this again, even if it will be hard.


End file.
